


Nails in your pocket, shard in your shoe

by letmetellyousomething



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Discrimination, Eye Injury, Gen, Genocide, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Nazis, Not Beta Read, Second-Person Narrative, alternative universe, anti-Semitism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyousomething/pseuds/letmetellyousomething
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the November progrom before WW2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nails in your pocket, shard in your shoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doxian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/doxian/gifts).



The Hitler Jugend meeting gets dismantled early. Something big's going to happen this evening, it's hard not to notice. The group leader has made allusions for days.  
Only a few nervously plead that they have to go home now, to their mothers and steaming soup pots, but you follow the older guys together with Eridan. You can feel it in the air, a vibrant, thrilling atmosphere. Maybe this is what they meant with becoming one with a greater entity. The community of people... so far you're always too conscious about your family background and your less than ideal standing in the group.

However that'll soon change. You're destined to be in charge of something huge and really important, while being totally ruthless about it. You'll prove that. One day when you'll rise beyond and above to the very top, you think. You stare at the short stubble hair on the back of the group leader's head.

Your group walks to the town center, your mood is boisterous. A few streets before that you see the first signs of what is coming. People busy themselves on the streets, you see two SA men in uniforms- wait, are they trashing Schierling's hardware shop window? Your group jeers when the shards hit the cobblestones.

They don't need to think twice before they're in the thick of the action. Excitement is flaring up in your stomach- is this really allowed?  
Well... You never liked Schierling, he's a really rude, nasty guy to anyone and you especially, calling you a mongolid bastard at every turn. "For Ernst vom Rath!" somebody yells. You don't know the whole story, but you follow the flow of people into the shop. It's the will of the people, obviously, acting against parasites like Schierling who have to be endured otherwise.

Equius picks up a crowbar and smashes it against the shelves. The big, empty cash register which gives a comical clank. One of your school teachers is carrying out screwdrivers! You laugh, half shocked, half genuinely enjoying yourself. This place is pretty demolished after a few minutes though.

A group of your local Nazi party is hurrying upstairs, you think you can hear the angry squeak of Schierling's voice shortly afterwards, but now it sounds more like a squeaky squeal.  
Eridan touches your shoulder, grinning, "Come on, let's go somewhere more exciting!"  
You follow him after filling one of your pockets with nails. You can always use those.  
The whole street is covered in glass shards now- no wonder, it's the Juden Gasse with lots of profiteers. It's not just the shops, though, they also threw furniture out of the windows of private houses. You halt when they pull a women past you, she struggles and screams uncomfortably loud to your ears. You think you've seen her on the market place before, selling cherries and smiling at you.

"What are they doing with her?" you ask and turn around, trying to find somebody of authority to resolve your uneasiness. "If she didn't put up a fight, they wouldn't have to force her. We're putting them in safe custody for their own good, until their name can be cleared from any suspicion," your group leader tells you. You nod quickly- you should have thought of that yourself, that sort of stupid question cannot make a very good impression on him.

You run after Eridan who's already walking around the corner. You normally don't go this route, so it takes you a displaced moment to realize that you're in front of Kaptor's & Megidofsky's law agency.

The big door out of oak wood has been broken open and your stomach sinks. This is all wrong. Your mind is occupied with superficial anger, how dare they break the door, how dare they, how dare they and you stumble in to stop the first person you see, but when you stand at the door of the bureau, this calm sanctuary of efficiency and yes, eventually even something as high and mighty as "the law"- while they rip the law lexicons and encyclopedia out of the shelves- you - they - look at each other. They're sneering and you can't raise your voice.  
Instead you lower your head and notice that the carpet is ruined.

"They're not here! That Judengesinde must have known we're coming," Eridan says businesslike to one of the SA, trying to pass as an equal to a man with clear, dark eyes. He shrugs and opens the drawer, looking through the papers, pulling out what he deems worth stealing. "We'll get them. No unfortunate influence on our fatherland Deutschland can escape us," he tells the group. You swallow and feel like retching.  
You think Eridan is watching you. He must be.  
"Oh Kar, wanna go upstairs?" The Kaptors live one level higher. This is a test. He's testing you. Stay level-headed. Go upstairs and try to save - something. You know where the father put their family photo album. The SA have probably rifled through everything, broken into the space, went into every room with their dirty boots- went into Shaul's room. Go along this once so he'll believe you. Go. Go upstairs. Go-

"I- think I have to go back home. My mom's expecting me for dinner, I just have to tell her where I'm going - otherwise she'll screech her head off, I'll be ba-"  
"Sure Kar," Eridan snorts. He wouldn't have believed you anyway. "Just remember on which side you would rather be on! The one of the people and our party- or the one of scum like your ratty little mate."  
You stagger down the stairs with heavy legs.

For a moment you stand still and try to think, you look around disorientated. Then the anxiousness swashes ice cold to your chest and over your head, bristling. You can't help yourself and start running. You don't know where he is and the places where you can look for him are limited. You run to school, you run through the streets full of shards, you run through mid town. You want to call for him, anything to break the unknowing, cowardly silence blooming in your chest. He must be safe, you tell yourself, he and his family were clever enough to hide- to run- or maybe they got into "safe custody" before the violent goon squad appeared.

You stand before the prison but don't dare to go in. You're sweating and shuddering, then you notice something warms your neck. You turn. Just on the other side of the street you can see the old synagogue burning. You feel the heat on your face, small wood splinters are rising in the hot air. At first you see people with water buckets nearby and with relief you think they're trying to extinguish the flames. You take a few steps forward, then you realize they're just in place to make sure the fire doesn't spread to the neighbour buildings.

Around the corner comes an eerie procession of maybe one hundred people, men, women, children, eldery, herded by a jeering crowd of civilians, the SA and SS. You can see their faces- by chance you notice Schierling among them, his nose is squashed in. He wears a mocking sign around his neck like so many others. No Shaul or other Kaptor. You walk back home, limping. One glass shard must have pierced your shoe.

When you walk up to your door you see your neighbour, Frau Gutmann, peering over the fence. It's way past midnight.  
"There are... unruly elements in your garden. I told them that we don't want them here, but they just ignored me," she informs you. "Somebody should get our boys to drive them out alongside with the whole pack! I heard they shot one in the head-!"  
You rush to the backyard garden. Shaul's sitting on the grass in the dark, you can barely see his face at first. The only light is coming from the kitchen window. His father is laying motionless on your garden bench. You yell. For a moment Shaul jerks up so violently- and with an expression on his face, like cold shock and instant resignation to whichever danger may seize him. You can't help but grab his shoulder, even though you know your neighbour has moved to the garden fences to watch you further.

"Shaul, what- are you alright?" Shaul shakes his head.  
"Sorry." is the first thing he says. "...Sorry- we didn't know where else to go- I didn't know if it was alright to ring at your door I guess..."

His father is sitting up now. He's pointlessly pressing a blood soaked handkerchief to his head, over his eye. You realize that they thought your parents might reject them at the door step, even after knowing them for as long as you can remember. Now Herr Kaptor is apologizing as well, but you're having none of that. It's not even a decision anymore, because anything else but keeping them safe is out of question.

Under the eyes of your watchful neighbor you lead them to the door. When your mother sees you in the doorway you halt for a moment. The way she is dressed tells you that she waited for you to come home.  
She gasps and clicks with her tongue. Then she does what should be self-evident- which seemed so natural just a few hours ago, before you realized the bigger picture, before you were shaken like this.

She lets them in and starts to fuzz. You get coddled as well because of your foot, even though you'll probably get a harsh scolding later.  
Kaptors will stay the night. For an hour you're so glad, so occupied that this feels like a weird, tense sleep over. Shaul is told to rest and to change into one of your old pajamas and you make sure he gets to sleep in your room. Karsten is away for his priest training anyway. You can't wait to be alone with him and away from the adults who're talking politics over a few glasses of liquor. Whatever, you don't want to hear anything about that stuff anymore.

When he finally sits down on the bed, though, you know that you can't get away that easily. Shaul's mouth twists as if he's about to sob, but no sounds comes out of it. You do what you wanted to do the first moment you saw him and wrap your arms around him. He sobs dryly, angrily. Again, with that nerve wrenching resignation.  
"I don't even know where Aradia is now! We seperated! And these brain dead dunglord hit dad with beats!"  
You don't know where to put your hands. You cradle his head even when he starts to shout at you.  
"And you stupid idiot! Running around like the most obvious jew friend! They'll get you as well, they'll devastate every single one of us!" He punches your shoulder.

At first you growl and want to shout back- you want to calm him, talk him out of this stupid pessimism. There has to be a way! Kaptors, Megidofsky- they're German citizens as well. They're people, there has to be some common sense that will prevail against this stupid beacon of violence and hate! But before you can say anything you feel Schierling's nails in your pocket again, digging into your flesh.

You hold your shakey breath, feeling a heavy lump in your throat. You look into Shaul's face.  
Then you kiss him his forehead. He lifts his head hesistantly. When he lets you, you deepen the kiss angrily, stroking his chest and shoulders.  
As if that could elevate him, above any danger, any cruelty and any inhumanity that lays ahead of him.

**Author's Note:**

> written for the hswc bonus round "history" for Doxian
> 
> The November progrom in Germany, 9–10 November 1938. 400 people were murdered, 300 000 were incarcerated in concentration camps. Jewish synagoges, homes, schools and cemetaries got destroyed. It's also known as "Kristallnacht" for the shards of broken windows that littered the streets, however that's also an euphemistic term.


End file.
